


Kuebiko

by Rectangle



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: ALSO OH !!!!, And I guess I'll update it as we go along, Burning, Don't Like Don't Read, I've got some other ideas for characters but I won't name 'em until they're actually here, IS THAT NOT? OBVIOUS?, M/M, Stabbing, Torture, Vampires, Vomiting, jazz hands it's a torture fic, no non-con in it yet but it'll get there, uhh can't forget, we got some dicey topics in here uH DO I GOTTA SAY I DON'T CONDONE THIS IRL LIKE?, we've got uhhhhh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-12 22:12:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16004354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rectangle/pseuds/Rectangle
Summary: Ritsu wakes up shackled and kidnapped from his crypt by a monster hunter with a vendetta against vampires. While normally he'd never interact with humans, he finds himself growing closer to a blind one trapped in captivity with him by the name of Sora. The two of them keep the other sane in an otherwise bleak situation. Before he can begin to think about growing feelings and what they mean, the two of them have to make it out alive. Will they be able to?





	Kuebiko

**Author's Note:**

> \- oh wow look at that it's guro, fun fact i saw this in a dream and this first chapter has been sitting literally completed besides beta'ing since April  
> \- another fun fact this a side acct I made specifically in prep for this fic lol  
> \- tY FOR BETA'ING, LETTY, ILU BITCH !!!  
> \- I'm guesstimating 4-6 chapters  
> \- HAVE FUN !!

His eyes snap open. It takes him a while to remember where he is. When he does, he closes his eyes again, wrapping himself in the thin sheet he’s been provided with and curling towards the wall.

The heavy footfalls from above remind him of why he’s woken up. The sound of them gets closer, coming down the stairs to the cellar and he hears the heavy lock of the wooden door click open before it bangs open, hitting the wall. The light of a torch glows behind his eyelids.

He’s tensing for a fight, but instead of coming over to him he hears the thump of something hitting the unused bed across from him. His mind races at what the man could be doing, settling down to watch him until he wakes? To taunt him with his capture? Curse these shackles that don’t stretch far enough for him to get the jump on the fucker.

The man steps back from the bed ( _so if he didn’t sit on it, what did he drop on it?_ ) and slowly walks over to him. Ritsu tries not to shudder as the man hovers over him, his scent fills his nostrils, gunpowder and silver. He reaches over to brush his _filthy, human_ hand over Ritsu’s hair in some disgusting show of possessiveness and as much as Ritsu wants to turn over and try to bite the bastard, he lays as still as possible.

The moment the door shuts behind him Ritsu gags on nothing. He turns his head over his shoulder to look at whatever the fucker left.

That’s definitely a person.

They’ve been dumped carelessly on the bed facing away from him but those are trousers so he’s guessing it’s a boy. Now that the bastard’s scent is finally dissipating he can smell this human, as dirty as any of them but there’s a faint scent of ginger beneath it.

Might as well wait for him to wake up, it’s not like there’s anything else to do down here besides sleep and lick his wounds. He turns over, being careful not to pull too hard on the silver shackles around his wrists and ankles. He hisses at the burn of them against his skin. _Honestly_. What a shitty situation to be in. Where are Anija and Maa-kun anyway? He huffs humorously. He goes back to trying to come up with ways to get out of this situation and rejecting each one.

There’s a shuffle on the bed across from him and a moan. His eyesight’s fine despite the only light source being from under the door so he sees it when the human goes rigid. Then all of a sudden the human’s taking a sharp gasp and scrambling off the bed. They hit the floor and shoot upwards, pressing themself along the wall until they feel the wood of door. They start pounding on it, screaming at the top of their lungs, “ _HELP! SOMEBODY! LET SORA OUT PLEASE! SORA WANTS TO GO HOME! PLEASE_!”

Ritsu cringes, it’s deafening in here and it scratches over his heightened senses and already frayed nerves. Who even speaks about themselves in the third person? He just got kidnapped by the guy and he’s already inviting him to come do something. Why did he have to get stuck with a kid _and_ an idiot? Fucking _useless_.

“Shut up will you? Nobody can hear you down here besides _him_ ,” he spits out venomously.

The human stops at once, sharply turning his head, caught off guard that there’s another person in the room. He drops his voice to a whisper despite what Ritsu _just_ said, “who’s _he_?”

“Who do you think? The guy who brought you here. I don’t bother to remember his name.”

“Where are we?”

“A shack in the middle of a forest as far as I can tell, nobody besides him comes through here.”

The kid continues to face his direction but Ritsu realizes his eyes aren’t really looking at him. He frowns remembering how the boy felt along the wall. Blind then? That’s probably not gonna help him get out either, he scowls harder.

“Who are you?” The boy asks.

“None of your business.”

The boy frowns but doesn’t ask anymore questions. Instead, putting his hand on the wood door and trailing it along the wall, using the other to feel things around him. Their “room” isn’t that big, there’s two small beds that already span the length of the space flush against their respective corners. Although Ritsu’s bed has silver shackles attached to the walls at the head and foot of it. An unlit scone is on the wall between the beds as well as a wooden table but that’s it. “Sora” quickly makes his rounds, drawing his hand back quickly from the chains when Ritsu hisses at him to “watch those.”

“Is there a flint in here?”

He asks when he reaches the scone. And mumbles, “Sora doesn’t like the dark…” quietly to himself.

Ritsu rolls his eyes, the boy may be young but surely he’s not young enough to still be scared of the dark.

There’s no flint in here, the man only brings them along with him, and he tells the human so. Ritsu watches as the boy sits heavily on the bed, placing his head in his hands before wedging himself in the corner. He doesn’t say anything, simply trembling in place. Every once in a while Ritsu hears a sniffle.

Ritsu goes back to dozing.

\-------

Both of them snap out of their dazes when they hear the door to the cottage open and close, followed by heavy footfalls overhead. Ritsu rolls back over to the wall while Sora walks over to the door, pressing his ear to the thick wood. He doesn't yell this time though, which is a blessing by itself.

Ritsu can smell the fear prickling over the human in the form of goosebumps. When the boy hears that oaf lumbering down the stairs he backs up quickly, pressing himself into the corner again and the fear in the air spikes, making his nose itch.

The bastard unlocks and opens the door, flooding it with light from the torch. Sora presses his head into his knees, whimpering. It's not until the man grabs his upper arm that he lets out an ear-piercing scream and starts shouting:

“ _Please don't hurt Sora! Sora just wants to go home! I'm sorry!_ ”

The man huffs, roaring at him to shut up before knocking him with a heavy hit to the head. Ritsu winces in sympathy as Sora cries out, falling to his knees and whimpering. That human had enough strength to daze _him_ , he could easily kill another human with that strength.

The bastard hauls Sora up to his feet, maneuvering him to the door and locking it behind him, leaving Ritsu in darkness again.

\----

Sora’s ears are still ringing from when the man hit him. Sora hasn't ever met a person this strong, even back in the village it was always kids that hurt and bullied Sora, Sora knows that now. He feels a little bit like puking as the man all but drags him up the stairs because they’re going too fast for him not to stumble in this state.

The man throws him into a seat at the wooden table and though he wants to rest his head on the table he makes sure to sit straight, warily doing his best to keep track of the man’s movements. He putters around the kitchen and though Sora freezes at the hiss of a knife being removed from its sheath it’s only so the man can cut some things up on the counter. Eventually the tantalizing smell of sizzling veal makes Sora’s mouth water.

He’s surprised when the man sets down what sounds like a plate in front of him with the order to eat up. Sora, of course, doesn’t want to obey. What if the food is drugged or poisoned? But he also doesn’t want to be hit again. He reaches out and finds in his hands a hearty sandwich of meat. The man takes no heed of Sora’s wariness, instead speaking with a deep and accented voice, “got ter make sure we get a good meal in ye before the fun begins, eh?”

Sora takes a small bite of it and begins to chew; there’s cheese in the sandwich too, he notes. The man nods approvingly with an, “atta boy” before starting in on his own plate. He continues to talk though, “ye know what yer roomin’ with down there? A _vampire_. Fuckin nasty creatures, aye. Don't die to barely fuckin nothin’ but that's why they're so fun to play with.”

There's a tone in the man's voice that has Sora’s nose filling with the smell of blood and his eyes water. He coughs lightly, its scent suffocating him. The man slaps his back and Sora jolts at the contact.

“What're ye choking on ye haven't barely even touched yer food. Ye are going to eat the food I made for ye, _aren't ye_?”

The man's tone suddenly turns icy and Sora freezes, breaking out into a cold sweat. Who cares about vampires when he has to focus on the threat in front of him.

Sora scrambles to grasp the sandwich tighter with both hands.

“Yes sir, thank you, Sir,” he squeaks out and quickly takes a large bite.

The man claps him on the back again and Sora nearly chokes on the cursed sandwich. He chews slowly through it, his mouth is so dry and the food is so heavy that it hurts his chest when he swallows his first bite. The man goes back to talking to himself, no longer paying attention to Sora.

“It's been a while since I've been able to catch one of 'em, they're fuckin fast ye know. Gotta break into their crypts during the day if ye wanna get the jump on them. But God knows they make it hard to get into their lairs. Fuckers think they can sit comfy in their fuckin _castles_ and look down on us, well I'll keep showin’ em, filthy _bloodsucking bastards”_ and he slams his hand down onto the table, making Sora jump.

The man gets up from the table and rummages around in the kitchen, muttering all the while, coming back with what smells like a tumbler of brandy and knocking it back. It smells like a heavy thunderstorm now, the types that would leave puddles for days that the kids would push him into.

“ _Finish eatin’ then!_ ” And Sora hurriedly gulps down the rest of it, eyes watering and chest hurting as he swallows bites too big.

“Atta boy,” the man growls before making his way down to the cellar.  
  
\-----

Ritsu tenses as the oaf comes bearing down the stairs. There's no point in pretending to sleep now, so instead he glares with all his might, puffing himself up and hissing as the man enters.

“None o’ that now.” And though he tries to curl away the bastard quickly stabs him in the side with a silver dagger. Ritsu can barely breathe as he fights through the pain, burning hot; his blood singes around the wound.

The man unclips the chains from the wall and manhandles him up the stairs, the jostling making Ritsu hiss in pain. Before he throws Ritsu onto the ground he spots the human sitting at the table in the kitchen, brow furrowed and ghostly pale. Now he curls into a ball, trembling around his wound that won’t heal until the silver’s removed. Already dizzy from the lack of blood the pain doesn’t heal and he already feels nauseous.

“Now the real fun can start!” The man laughs. He reaches for a white-hot poker that's been sitting in the fire. Ritsu lashes out in fear, claws reaching to tear out the man's throat despite the silver burning his skin and seemingly weighing a million pounds. The man’s done nothing more than starve and humiliate him at this point but he doesn’t like the look of that poker.

The man’s not a monster hunter for nothing though, he turns around lightning fast, pressing the length of it into the side of Ritsu’s cheek.

He flinches away from it reactively, tripping over his chains and falling to the floor, hand instinctively reaching up to his cheek, eyes wide.

“That eager to get started are we?” The man laughs, stomping on his ankle. Ritsu hears the crunch of it along with the sudden flare of pain and he bites through his lip trying not to cry out. His eyes water as pain overloads his senses. The man grinds his ankle into the wooden floor and he can't help the tears that run over then.

He pulls his other knee to his chest, curling into it and trying to protect his middle. He’s loathe to tilt his head to the man fucker but he doesn’t want to expose all his important organs either. His head is swimming with pain.

The man kneels in front of him, lifting his head by his hair so they’re eye level. He grips his face with the other, digging his fingers into the sore burn mark he left behind. Ritsu breathes harshly, glaring with all might he can muster.

“Hey there, bloodsucker~ The name’s Randall, I’m gonna make sure ye don’t forget it.”

Ritsu doesn’t give a _fuck_ what this human’s name is. He spits in the fucker’s face, though his ears ring with something like regret when his head is slammed into the floor.

The oaf wipes his face with his sleeve, scowling at the blood and spit. He glowers down at Ritsu, “all ye prideful bastards are the same at first. Don’t worry, I’ll get ye to change yer tune.”

He kicks Ritsu across the face, his neck snapping to the other side before stomping on his stomach where the dagger protrudes. Ritsu lets out a strangled gasp, his vision flashing white for a second and it’s hard to breath as the man picks him up by the ankles to drag him over to the fireplace, sending pain shooting through his leg. It’s already starting to swell and the fucker clasps the manacles to rings sticking out of either side of the fireplace, leaving him spread eagle in front of it. He then kneels down and swiftly pulls the dagger from his side.

“Cooperate unless ye want two broken wrists too,” he says as he takes hold of Ritsu’s forearm, and though he does try and scratch at him the angle just isn’t to his advantage. The man stabs him through the palm with it, pinning him to the floor. He pulls another from his belt and does the same with his other and Ritsu is coming to hate silver. He hates how it immobilizes him so completely, simultaneously weakening and burning him. It’s impervious to him, he’s spent the last two nights trying to pry it off of him or rip it from the walls or _something_ , but it drains him all too quickly, leaving him like _this._ Pathetic.

Through the scent of his own pain mixed with the blood seeping from his hands and lips he can smell the satisfaction wafting from the man. He's looking down at Ritsu, pulled taut at his feet and at his mercy. He smirks at Ritsu looking so dishevelled, normally pale skin marred with dirt and blood. Ritsu bears his teeth to the man, vowing now that he will not submit to the likes of him.

The man doesn't start off lightly though. He pulls up Ritsu’s shirt, bearing the wound from the dagger. The blood’s mostly stopped now that the silver’s gone but it's healing much slower than usual because of his other injuries. The man picks up the poker from the fireplace again before pressing it against the wound.

Ritsu jerks, choking on a gasp as his blood pops and sizzles. His skin hisses delightfully at him and he strains against his restraints, his ankle screaming in protest but he has to get _away_ from the agony of that poker. His eyes water and he trembles, feeling nauseous as the scent of his burning flesh attacks him and there's a ringing in his ears, the corners of his vision are going grey, and then he feels nothing.

\-------

Sora cowers in his seat, glad his companion seems to have finally passed out. He couldn't take hearing those sounds anymore. There was that _sizzling_ and that _smell,_ of what he guessed must’ve been _burning flesh_. And those choked noises the vampire was making and his gasps and Sora had to cover his ears and bury his face into his knees.

The man, Randall, chuckles before standing and even with his eyes squeezed shut and his hands pressing over his ears and the sound of his breaths, quick and shallow, echoing around his head, the sound of the fire poker dragging across the floor sends chills up his spine. The man starts walking over to him and Sora scrambles off the chair, feeling in front of him as he desperately tries to crawl away, collapsing on such shaky legs. The man picks him up by the back of the collar and Sora lets out a screech of pure terror before the man wraps an arm around his neck and the pressure on his windpipe chokes him quiet. He flails his arms and legs, his elbow catches the man’s face and his leg hits him somewhere though he can’t tell where, just that it’s very solid. The man growls at the elbow and marches him across the floor. The tears pour hot and heavy down his cheeks, snot bubbling and dripping as he screams and fights and wails desperately.

“ _Sora doesn’t want to die! SORA DOESN’T WANT TO D-”_

His screams are cut off as the man dunks his face into a trough of water and Sora chokes and coughs on the water suddenly filling his mouth and nostrils, stinging and sending another flood of tears.

This is how he’s going to die, he’s going to _die_ here.

Sora puts another burst of energy into his flailing, legs kicking out on the slippery floor as water cascades over the sides of the trough. He can feel warmth spread through his pants as he wets himself. The man presses him harder into the trough, the edge of it pressing painfully into his chest and he can’t fight it as more water enters his mouth, he’s trying desperately to gasp for air and there’s only water, _there’s only water-_

Before the man lifts his face out of the water and drops him to the floor. Sora collapses, trembling on his hands and knees. Tears drip down his face and he coughs and sputters, his head is pounding and he can feel _water_ sloshing around his belly and he pukes onto the floor. The acid burns his throat, his stomach cramps painfully, and even the vomit surging through his throat makes him feel like he’s suffocating again. The chunks of meat caress his throat before splattering on the floor and his cramping stomach brings even more tears to his eyes.  
  
He’s wheezing, wiping his face with his sleeve, and swallowing, trying to ease the burn at the back of his throat when the man picks him up again by the collar and Sora struggles to stand straight.

“Good, now ye know where the water’s at.”

The man shoves a bucket into his hands and Sora grasps it with shaky hands, feeling not quite right in his body, like he’s floating around it instead of in it.

“Bring a bucket over,” Randall says before walking back over to the vampire. “And since ye obviously don’t appreciate yer food I guess ye won’t be needin’ dinner.” Sora dutifully scoops a bucket out of the trough, crying silently all the while. He does his best to walk over to where the man is, though he bumps into the table and jolts so far at the contact that more than a bit of the water sloshes out onto his already soaked feet. The man clicks his tongue with disapproval but doesn’t say anything else.

Sora stops around where he thinks he should, can feel the man’s eyes on him. His pants weigh heavily down on him, soaked through with water and piss. The front of his shirt and his pants cling to him uncomfortably and his hair drips water onto his neck. He looks pitiful, curled in on the bucket and visibly trembling.

Randall prickles with the pleasure he gains from the sight. Just as he does when he steps behind the boy and he hunches in on himself further, trembling harder. He claps his hands around the boy’s forearms and he yelps, more water sloshing onto the floor.

Sora squeezes his eyes closed tightly, his fingers white around the bucket but the man just guides him a couple of steps forward.

“Turn the bucket over,” he says. And Sora does so. He realizes what he’s done when he hears the vampire start sputtering. Coughing, the vampire turns his head to the side before Randall dismisses Sora.

“Go clean up yer mess, fuckin disgustin’.”

Sora scrambles away, glad to be as far away from the man as he possibly can. He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to be cleaning with but he doesn’t dare ask, instead, peeling off his shirt and doing his best to mop up the mess on the floor. He focuses on the task, trying to ignore the sounds behind him.

There’s the hissing of the vampire and Randall’s soft murmuring. But worst of all there’s the hissing and popping of hot metal against flesh as Randall seems to press the poker against the vampire’s skin over and over. Even then the vampire doesn’t do more than gasp and make voiceless noises but Sora can hear when he starts thrashing around, cursing and hissing.

Then he thinks that _he’s_ the one who woke up the vampire, he’s now an _accomplice_ to whatever this-- this _messed up situation is_ and he has to cover his ears again as he starts to hyperventilate.

All in all Randall calls him over with a bucket three more times before he finally gets bored or tired, Sora doesn’t know, just glad it’s stopped. Randall drags the unconscious vampire back down to the cellar and Sora can hear the clinking of the chains as they’re hooked back up to the wall. He huddles in the corner of his bed, hoping Randall won’t speak to him again. He doesn’t, heading back upstairs and sealing them in with the clank of that heavy wooden door.

 


End file.
